A Lightweight Autobot
by ZootyCutie
Summary: In a need to come up with a science fair project, Mainframe and Wheeljack slip some high grade in Perceptor's oil, and record the hilarious results. Parody of Strong Bad Email "caffeine". One-shot.


Nothing like a little parody to get the day started, huh?

Anyways, this is a parody of Strong Bad Email number 91: caffeine. It's one of my favorites, and I decided to throw it in the blender with an Animated twist. It's supposed to take place after the series

The characters in here are owned by Hasbro, and The Brothers Chaps own the original script and storyline.

Enjoy!

* * *

It was a normal day on Cybertron. Maccadam's Old Oil House was open and back in business, and any 'bot that could hold their oil and energon was there. That is, all but two…

You see, the annual Cybertron Science fair was coming up, and Wheeljack and Mainframe were nearly DESPERATE to come up with an idea. So far, they only had the idea of setting gasoline on fire. Ditching that idea, they turned to their "idea juice". Empty cans of oil and cubes of energon littered the lab, as they tried to find an idea. The lab was quiet, until the whooshing noise of the energy containment unit shocked them back into reality. But, it was only Perceptor, grabbing a container of low grade and leaving.

"There goes Perceptor with his low grade." Mainframe said, as the doors of the lab closed. "What a lightweight."

"Yeah." Wheeljack agreed, then his eyes and face fins suddenly lit up in humor. "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if we put some high grade into his low grade and take notes to see what happens?"

"Heh, yeah! Now THAT would make a great experiment!" Mainframe jokingly agreed, as the two shared a laugh. When they stopped, they stared at each other. That WOULD make a great experiment…

* * *

The next morning, Wheeljack and Mainframe got up earlier than they normally due. They pulled out an oil tanker that had "Perceptor" labeled on it. Using his laser cutter, Mainframe delicately removed the lid, and Wheeljack poured a few spoonfuls of high grade into the diluted oil. Mainframe quickly sealed the container up seamlessly with his laser, and put the tanker back in the containment unit. Just in time too, as Perceptor was coming down to the stairs, and noticed how his partners were smiling really strangely. Disregarding this, he grabbed the container of low grade, and drank it down as he left the room. When they were sure he was out of audio sensor's reach, the two scientists gave each other a high servo. Their plan was working! All they had to do was wait…

* * *

In only a few mega-cycles, the high grade went into effect. Perceptor was off the walls. One of his optics was opened irregularly large, and his servos twitched every so often. Wheeljack and Mainframe took notes, observing his behavior change.

"So Perceptor, tell us, how do you feel?" Wheeljack asked, as he wrote down things on his data pad.

"I feel great! I feel great! I feel great! I feel bad. I don't even watch mecha-soccer! I don't even watch mecha-soccer! I can't remember my stabilizing servos." Perceptor rattled on. He was speaking fast, though his voice remained monotonous. So far, the project was working perfectly.

* * *

Today was supposed to be a fun day off for Jetfire and Jetstorm. Emphasis on SUPPOSED. Perceptor was on his servos and knee joints, crawling on the floor after the twins and talking to them, as they tried their best to ignore him, which didn't work to well.

"Hey you guys! Listen up! Что я говорю? What did I say? What did I just say? Did I say anything? What about this one: Я думаю, что кто - то помещал кое-что в мою нефть! Did that mean anything? Did I offend you? I hope I didn't offend you."

Wheeljack and Mainframe noticed that after being exposed to the Jettwins, Perceptor had started to act way creepier than normal…even for Perceptor.

* * *

Ever since Bulkhead came back to Cybertron from Detroit, he started up his own art studio. Many mechs and femmes came to see his works of art, and some even paid him to make request art. He WAS painting a picture for Glyph, but it's hard to make art when you've got an over-energized scientist chattering about nothing to you.

"Bulkhead, Bulkhead, Bulkhead!! What do you wanna make? You wanna make some wood-davers with me? I got pine cones! I got peanut butter! I got everything we need! I said pine cones! Pine cones! Gonna be successful! Gonna be phenomenally successful! Sell 'em at the corner store! Sell 'em at the five and dime! Bulkhead, you gotta get on the ship, get on the wood-davers ship! Here goes the wood-davers ship! It's takin' off! It's a new century!"

By this point, Bulkhead had left the room, but Perceptor seemed to have no idea, as he continued to talk, and the two observers continued to take notes.

"I can't remember Garbage-Os I can't remember TV. Is it mecha-soccer season yet? I'll run you over in mecha-soccer, run you down the field like a Decepti-clown!"

* * *

That day's Elite Guard meeting was supposed to go off without a hitch. Everyone that was supposed to be there was there. However, everyone that was supposed to be there WASN'T in their chairs. No, Perceptor was hanging upside down on the pipes in the ceiling of the meeting room, much to the chagrin of Sentinel Prime.

"Get down."

"No!"

"Get down!"

"No, no…Space whale."

"…Did you just say 'space whale'?"

Let's just say, the Elite Guard's not gonna talk about that meeting for a while…

* * *

Finally, in the final stages of the experiment, Perceptor became the following: erratic, violent, and REALLY funny to watch. The scientists had managed to find Rattletrap selling his forged goods (like usual), and Perceptor decided it would be a great chance to learn to defend himself.

"Hey Rattletrap! Hey Rattletrap! Whaddaya got? Whaddaya got for me? How about that? Wanna play some basketrek? Some retro-wing gliding? I got whatever it takes! Hey, ya want some salad? Servo salad? Grated gears salad? JaAm salad?"

When he was rattling off to the informant, he was simultaneously whacking him repeatedly, making his helmet fall off.

"Woo! Woo! Cut that out! Don't hurt me! I don't wanna die! I'm just an informant—Ooh! Ooh!"

Perceptor grabbed the fallen helmet off of the ground, and placed it on his own head. Suddenly something weird started to happen…

"...Salad! JaAm salad! JaAm salad! JaAm salad! ...Salad...Salad as a rock? Um... Rattletrap, what are we doing here?"

"You was tryin' to jank me!"

"Feeling…very…uncomfortable…"

Suddenly, Perceptor passed out. The high grade had worn off, and he was back to normal. The data collection was complete.

* * *

"At this point, the test subject…was off-lined." Mainframe announced to the science fair crowd, who reacted in shock.

"I was not off-lined!" Perceptor yelled from the crowd.

"...Shut up." Wheeljack said, trying to shut the now fully-aware scientist up. "And this data could only bring us to one conclusion…Perceptor's a wimp at everything."

This lead to shock from the audience again. Well, except for one perturbed scientist…

"That is not true either!"

THE END


End file.
